


Mystery Solving

by Download



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Hydra (Marvel), Self-Insert, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24907885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Download/pseuds/Download
Summary: We were only in past for a few minutes when suddenly a few things clicked together.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Mystery Solving

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a non-canon snippet from my terrible self-insert I keep working on for some reason. I will probably never publish it out of shame, but I had a funny idea to do with it a few days ago so I wrote this up.
> 
> Some backstory so things make sense:
> 
> The self-insert is Tony Stark's daughter from his pre-Pepper days of literally screwing around. Oops. Practice safe sex kids.
> 
> When I first came up with the idea I was looking for Avengers crossovers featuring D.Va. I couldn't find anything decent but it lead to me thinking about mecha in the MCU and I figured if I ever ended up self-inserted into the MCU as Stark's kid that's what I'd do.
> 
> The insert has only seen up to Infinity War and didn't watch some films/wasn't paying attention to them. So there are holes in her knowledge.
> 
> Also I'm Team Cap, so I thought being his kid would spice things up there. Family drama yo.

**Snippet 1 of ???  
**

A dozen systems blared warnings at me. I could tell my computer had truncated the list substantially, prioritising the warnings it thought most important.

Structural failure left leg below the knee, structural failure right arm at the wrist, armour compromised in three different places due to delamination, 93% depletion of offensive ordnance, 75% of defensive ordnance, broad-spectrum jamming causing the loss of GPS and long-range comms, loss of inertial reference, transient electromagnetic interference has caused damage to the phased array radar… the list went on.

There was a groan as metal and composite failed and the leg gave out, sending fifteen tonnes of armour sideways.

“Hey, watch it!” Rhodey shouted, hearing both the radio and my armour’s sensors picking up his voice.

The fall wasn’t very jarring, the armour was designed to cushion the blow from shocks much larger than that. I used the remaining good arm to prop the armour up though.

“Identify yourselves!”

The voice was slightly distorted, the typical result of the low-cost but high-power amplifiers used in most bullhorns. I blinked at the image in shock for a few moments; this was… unlikely.

“That’s impossible,” said dad.

I double checked the armour’s IFF system to see who we had with us: _daddy dearest_ , Rhodey and Scott. This could be a lot worse under the circumstances. I dial up the volume.

“Time travellers, from the future, Director.”

Though only a few cameras were still working and I could only see dad, I knew Rhodey and Scott had also turned towards my hulking metal form in shock at the statement.

“Pardon?” asked Director _Carter_ unbelievably from the catwalk high above them.

There were a lot of guards now forming up along the walls and the catwalk. We could take all of them with a pretty large margin of certainty, but I don’t make a habit of slaughtering SHIELD goons.

“Uhh,” said dad intelligently before he switches to internal comms. “ _What are you doing Cynthia?”_

“Take a look around and figure it out, dad,” I shoot back. “I see dead people? The 1980s corporate aesthetic?”

To be fair, I had experienced dimension travelling or something, and he had not.

I start the opening procedure for my armour, even half-wrecked I’m sure it’s inflaming the situation just sitting there.

“Don’t give anything away, we don’t know what the rules are,” I add as I climb out and stand on the lip of the cockpit. We were in a large room, maybe a “modern” (by the standards of the time) warehouse or workshop. There was test gear on carts, scientists in lab coats, screens adorned with retro computer interfaces. The hair was probably the big giveaway though. 1980s hair styles were only good ironically.

“What, the time-travel rules?” asked Scott incredulously.

I turn and look down at him in his Ant-Man suit.

“Yes,” I reply flatly.

Dad looks like he wants to make complaint.

“Got a better idea?”

He would probably have suggested something if it wasn’t for what caught everyone’s attention.

“See, Peggy, I told you this was something interesting!”

I turn to the man. His grey – almost white – moustache is very familiar.

“Dad?” asked my father.

_Oh for fuck’s sake._

Howard Stark’s face went from glee to shock in an instant as Tony stark opened the faceplate on his red and gold armour. I can see Rhodey tense but Scott just turns back and glances around the large room with all the guns pointed at us.

“We need to go back as soon as possible,” I cut loud enough for Carter to hear me in trying to regain control of the situation.

I stared at _grandpa_ for a few seconds before I noticed the device he is standing next too; it’s the same one from the fucking Hydra warehouse, our time machine.

“Director, we need to return as soon as possible and everyone here needs to keep their mouths shut; the situation in the future is fluid enough as it is and we don’t need further fuckups –” I glance at dad who’s still staring at gramps “– causing a paradox or some shit.”

I would like this version of time-travel to be alternate timeline rules so I can give everything away, but I have nothing to prove that so I can’t risk it.

“This seems very unlikely,” says the elderly Peggy Carter.

I can’t really fault the statement.

“How do you know you can’t say anything?” she asks.

I shrug.

“I don’t for sure, but I don’t see any time travel experts about; we can’t risk it.”

I glance at dad, he’s the proof most immediately available.

“I think you and Howard recognise… Tony.” I falter at the word _Tony_ a smidgen. Several years and I’ve gotten pretty used to calling him dad, asshole that he was.

I watch director Carter as she surveys dad. Though getting on in years, she’s clearly still sharp at this point.

“That could be faked,” she replies after a few moments. “Plastic surgery is quite good, you know.”

Fair point. I quickly try to think of another solution.

“Would you mind if my colleagues and I take a moment to converse and try to think of some secret that no one should know right now but revealing to someone won’t break things?”

Carter looks at me for a second before nodding.

“Try to keep the sudden movements to a minimum.”

Though at an awkward angle, it doesn’t take much to climb to ground level. I feel a bit naked standing there in only my suit and some basic low-profile hard armour. The suit is top of line and will protect me from fire and most frag, the sort of thing I need protection most from if I’m climbing out of the burning wreckage of my armour, but it will only stop pistol bullets on a good day and has no hope against rifle rounds.

Dad has been working on some iron man type armour to wear inside my armour, but the bulk means a larger crew compartment which means more weight for the same protection, which means bigger everything else. It’s also not so comfortable to wear when you can’t move about properly inside it. I expect that to pan out right around the same time that dad builds nanite armour.

“Dad, get over here,” I say lowly.

I cringe where gramp’s eyes snap towards me; it wasn’t as low as I had intended it seems.

“Dad!” I say a bit more urgently.

He turns and blinks bewilderedly at me. I’m still on the fence as to if Howard was as bad a parent as I’ve heard, but dad clearly still has issues.

“So, what have we got?” asked Rhodey as we huddled around. “What year is it even?”

Rhodey turned towards Director Carter.

“What’s the date, director?” he asked.

Carter raised an eyebrow at him.

“September 5th, 1985.”

Has Peggy been in the US so long she started using American date order?

“Thanks,” he replied before turning back. “So, what have we got?”

“Is DNA testing a thing yet?” I ask.

Everyone looks to dad. He takes a moment to regain some equilibrium.

“It’s… an emerging technology. It could be done but won’t be quick. Waiting in a cell for a few weeks while our gear is stolen is a last resort.”

Or all of our dirty secrets are pillaged from our computer systems. We’d have to burn everything first and I can’t see that being permitted.

He’s strangely level as he speaks and nowhere near as exuberant as he normally is. I’ll… let Pepper deal with that when we get back.

“I don’t have anything that I can say without mucking up the timeline,” I say.

“Yeah,” replies dad as he scratches the line where his helmet meets his face. “Christ, time-travel.”

I ignore the remark and glance at Scott and Rhodey. How did I end up taking charge?

“I don’t know a thing,” says Scott. “I’ve only been in this business a few months you know.”

Rhodey shrugs.

“We’ll have to think of something. Tech maybe?”

Yeah, that might work. I turn to Carter again.

“Would technology decades more advanced than what is possible now convince you, Director?” I ask.

“I’m not sure showing off our tech is the best idea, kid.” I turn and frown at Scott for a second. He might be right, but hopefully the fear of us and the tech never going back in time because of it will sway them. Then again, with the likes of Hydra… yeah, maybe I spoke too soon. Crap.

“That depends,” Carter calls back from her catwalk.

Computing speed maybe? They could get a tech to quickly write a program that solves a complex mathematical problem with a known minimum number of calculations to solve and demonstrate that we can solve it orders of magnitude more quickly than any computer in this era. Functional, but maybe not flashy enough. Though lack of flashiness might be a boon here.

On the other hand, what about flashy but not super useful from a military perspective? Sci-fi holograms didn’t exist in this time I’m pretty sure and it’s used as a heads up displace in our armours.

“How would we know this isn’t alien technology?”

Everyone turns to a new figure entering the room flanked by two guards; Pierce. I’m so very glad Steve or Bucky aren’t here with us.

I dearly hope dad’s dazed expression doesn’t change as I try not to react to this piece of shit entering the room. Rhodey and Scott have it lucky with their face’s not visible.

Suddenly though I have a revelation as the dots connect. I open my mouth to say something and then reconsider, closing it.

No, this is insane… but, it makes way too much sense.

I open my mouth again.

“I know something!” I say loudly. Everyone turns to me again. “Something that… – It’s Undersecretary Pierce at the moment, isn’t it?”

The Nazi piece of shit nods once with a curious expression on his face.

“Something Undersecretary Pierce has been organising but hasn’t shared yet. No one but he could possibly know it.”

I can see fear in dad’s eyes. He is about to open his mouth when I give him a flat look and a small shake of my head. I’m pretty sure under their armour Scott and Rhodey are worried too, Pierce’s true loyalties are no secret in our future. I turn back to Pierce.

“I assume this is something that should stay classified for now?” he asks. “What’s your name?”

“Yes,” I say after a second. “And it’s Cynthia.”

I can see out of the corner of my eye dad’s armoured hand flex at my admission. I turn back to Pierce.

“Please leave you weapons behind,” says Pierce after a few moments.

I handed Rhodey my handgun, knife and the smoke grenade I carried on my armour. I can’t say I liked to go even more naked, but I can’t imagine this being negotiable. The only weapon I had left was a folding knife in my pocket. If I get scanned more thoroughly I think I can pass it off with “oops, I forgot I had that.”

As I approach Pierce he turns and signals over his shoulder to follow, his guards separating him and me. I try not to cringe as two more guards step from behind the doors and follow me a few metres behind.

“So, how does someone your age end up in this line of work?” he asks over his shoulder. “What are you? Sixteen, seventeen?”

Apparently the goons don’t stop him from having a conversation.

“Close enough, Secretary.” I answer vaguely with a shrug. If I remember correctly I’m pretty sure his place as Secretary is just around the corner and Hydra have had it planned for a while. He doesn’t show any registration of the title though.

“Dad doesn’t like me doing this, but he figured out a while back he can’t actually stop me. He’d rather I help out _with_ supervision than the inevitable alternative.”

Pierce and his guard suddenly halt though as Peggy Carter steps from around the corner.

“I think this is something I should be involved in, Alex.”

Shit. I love your competence Peggy, but this will fuck things up.

Pierce pauses for a moment before shrugging.

“Very well, Director.”

No, no, no. I step to the side so I’m clearly visible between the Hydra goons.

“I’m sorry, Director,” I cut in trying to think of something fast, “but I know for a fact you weren’t briefed on this for two or three years from now. It _probably_ won’t change things too much, but we _really_ can’t risk it.”

Peggy stares at me.

“How old are you?” she asks.

This again I see.

“Old enough to fight in the war, Director.”

She gives me the once over. While not Nat levels of catsuit, the suit was still quite close fitting which helped stop it from getting caught on the myriad of sharp things in and out of my armour that had ripped more than a few pieces of clothing. I had a lot more pouches than Nat too. I can’t say it gave me any favours when it came to impressions about my age though.

Peggy turns to Pierce.

“I expect to be briefed then,” she says and turns off.

Pierce gives me another curious look over his shoulder and waves us on again. He leads us to a conference room. It’s about as tacky as I’d expect from the 1980s. Pierce’s first two guards’ step in while the second pair stand outside the door. I follow Pierce and they close it behind me as I step in.

“Well?” he asks.

I glance at the probably-Hydra goons. I can’t risk it.

“How well do you trust your guards?” I ask. “How secure is this room?”

Pierce gives me a side long look.

“I trust them completely.”

I stare at him a few moments and then back to the guards. I need something to write on. Thankfully there are pens and paper on the conference table. The guards watch me like hawks as I reach for a pen and a piece of paper. I’m about to write when Pierce cuts in sharply.

“Don’t write on the table, people can lift things from the imprint.”

 _Oh_ , yeah.

I scribble one word using the palm of my hand as backing and hand it to Pierce.

_Hydra?_

Pierce looks up from the paper as he pockets it for disposal, his surprise morphs into a smirk. I try not to throw up as I say the next words.

“Hail Hydra.”

Pierce starts to laugh. I glance sideways at the goons who are a bit surprised, I’m not sure if it’s at the revelation or their ruthless boss laughing.

“This is good,” he says with a touch of glee. He actually rubs a tear out of his eye. “Howard Stark’s granddaughter – you’re his granddaughter, right?” I nod. “A member of our organisation.”

I give my best smile. It’s clearly nervous, but hopefully he just thinks that’s me being nervous because I’m in front of _the_ boss or something along those lines.

“This certainly makes me confident for the future.”

I don’t know what to say so I just nod in agreement. Pierce scratches his chin in contemplation.

“Is there anything you can tell me?” he asks.

I think for a moment.

“I don’t think so, sir,” I reply, gaining some confidence. “We were dealing with some of the last loyalist holdouts when we ended up here, I would be worried about interfering with a plan that works. And that’s before the paradox stuff.”

Pierce enthusiastically nods.

“Yes, yes, I can see.”

I give him a shrug.

“I’m not much of a strategist, sir, I just step on people.”

Pierce looks almost wistful at the thought, probably imagining a giant battlemech stepping on Steve.

Oh, I know what else.

“When were done with the machine, sir, it needs to get stored at one of our facilities. At the start of the…” I wave my hand looking for the word. “… _conflict,_ the loyalists tried to counterattack and they took over the base which led to use getting here when we came to finish them off. I think if you just pick one at random you’ll get the right base.”

Pierce scratches his chin again.

“Yes, I guess that’s the best we can do – we’re clearly in unknown territory here.”

“Yes, sir,” I loyally reply.

“Alright, lets get you on your way before we change anything.”

Pierce gives me what looks like a genuine smile from him. I try not to wonder too much if Himmler’s face looked the same as he got his weekly reports. Genuine or not, there was darkness behind it.

o0o0o

Thankfully dad, Rhodey and Scott don’t look at me too funny when I return with an agreeable Pierce and held off their questions until we were back in the future.

Dad still looked pretty shocked from meeting his father, so it was Rhodey that asked the question.

“What did you tell Pierce that made him do a one-eighty?”

Even dad leaned in at the question as we sat in the back of the quinjet. I felt dirty repeating the words.

“Hail Hydra.”

All three recoiled at the words.

“You convinced him you were a Hydra agent?” asked Scott.

“Yeah, I – uh – told him I shouldn’t change anything about a successful plan.”

I gave a serious nod. Rhodey laughs. Scott snorts.

“Oh, that’s golden.”

Even dad looks a bit more cheerful.

“Were you worried about the timeline?” asked dad.

Oh yeah, the best bit.

“Nah, there was something Pierce said to me at Triskelion a few months back that suddenly made sense…”

o0o0o

_Three months earlier…_

15 tonnes of robot crashed through the armoured wall. Beyond-design-basis is the technical term, but in layman’s it means they weren’t thinking “armoured against giant robots” when they designed it.

There’s a goon with a 40mm grenade launcher. I didn’t rate his chances against the armour too highly, but I wasn’t going to risk it. A single round from my autocannon pulps him before his surprise wears off and I turn to Sitwell and Pierce.

I admit, I don’t really get the whole Hydra and race thing. I expected them to be exactly like the Nazis, but Jasper “slightly too brown for Hitler” Sitwell is in their ranks. Did the Nazis have a progressive shift or maybe he tells everyone he likes tanning? Whatever. A Nazi is still a Nazi.

Jasper looks slightly nervous; I can see a bead of sweat run down his face. Pierce though looks very confident, standing tall and calm. I have to wonder if he’s stupid or if he has some sort of play going. I couldn’t see it though, there was nothing that would stop me from pasting the pair of them in a fraction of a second.

“Cynthia? May I call you Cynthia?” asked Pierce.

I didn’t respond. This was certainly a first from the numerous Hydra goons and officers the Avengers had put down over the last few days. Though Sitwell was staring at the smear that was once a colleague of his.

Pierce must have taken my silence as consent though as he continued.

“I’ve heard from a _very_ reliable source that you’re sympathetic to our views.”

Eh, what?

I’m almost tempted to let him monologue to find out where he got that crazy notion from; I hate authoritarianism of all flavours and Hydra are no exception. But I know the evil overlord rules, don’t do that, don’t let them keep talking waiting for an opening or backup, just deal with them.

I’m sure the floor jumps as I step forward. Fifteen tonnes or not, my mech weighs a quarter of that of a tank and has considerably more power at its disposal. Maybe Sitwell is still too shocked, or maybe he’s surprised by the speed but he barely moves before a massive armoured hand backhands him. I know from the previous few days that the experience is not survivable as his body crunches, goes flying through the air and bounces off another armoured wall before hitting the ground.

Pierce looks at me in shock.

“Now wait –”

I don’t let him get in another word as I step on him with another crunch.

I checked the details Fury had given me about the next target and took off through the hole I’d made. As I slowly gained altitude I wondered where Pierce got that fucking crazy idea.


End file.
